This year is the bicentennial of the first publication of a work that WH Auden described as one of "the few indispensable, common-property books upon which western culture can be founded" and "next to the Bible in importance". It also gave us the fictional character with the highest name recognition in the English language, Cinderella (although in 1812, when the book was published in German, the name she had was Ashputtel). The book is Kinder- und Hausmärchen (more commonly known as Grimms' Fairy Tales) by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.

So it is unsurprising and, indeed, proper that Penguin Classics should produce a new collection of the tales for this Christmas. And frankly, once you have arrived at this point, Philip Pullman is a shoo-in for the task, because he writes the most limpid, economic narrative prose; because he is already famous for dealing in magical realms (though a very different sort of magic); and, above all perhaps, because he is one of the very few contemporary writers who has written genuine cross-generational fiction. The Grimm Brothers did not set out to record children's stories, and all the anthropological evidence suggests that until well into the 19th century these kinds of oral folk tales were not specifically for children but for everyone. This is nicely reflected in Pullman's subtitle – "for young and old".

Pullman has chosen and retold his 50 favourites from the original stories – 50 out of more than 200 means, inevitably, that your own favourites may very well have been omitted. Where is the delightful "White Snake" and its charming young servant hero? How could anyone prefer the rambling "Twelve Brothers" to the very similar but obviously better "Six Swans", with its heroine who laboriously makes shirts out of starwort? But Pullman's selection is fair and wide ranging and embraces most of the types of story. If it is distinctly thin on the more pious tales, that is hardly surprising. Given his well-known views on religion it would prove well nigh impossible to present "The Three Green Twigs" or "Poverty and Humility Lead to Heaven" as personal favourites. And if any of the stories are going to vanish, these are probably the ones in which there is currently least interest and engagement; even "pious types" such as me would not want to lose "Cinderella" or "Rumpelstiltskin" in favour of "The Hazel Branch" or the macabre "God's Food".

One of the best things that Pullman does in his all-too-short introduction is reiterate the oral tradition from which these stories come – from a writer's point of view, this means that, though you need to be respectful, you do not need to venerate any pre-existing text. The Grimms themselves did not, adding and subtracting details as their audience demanded (they have been much criticised for this, I have always felt, unfairly; they honoured the tradition of the tales precisely by adapting them to new audiences). Pullman does this with great elegance, for example strangling the husband in "The Three Snake Leaves", instead of just chucking him overboard, so that the readers or hearers know he is genuinely dead and so that the rope is available as evidence at the denouement: this really does make the narrative stronger.

Elaborating Cinderella's ballgowns into the colours of starlight, moonlight and sunlight (rather than the simpler gold and silver of the Grimms' version) enhances the sense of magic, while allowing her to choose these colours herself reduces her passivity and demonstrates her good taste. One of Pullman's most useful additions is the vastly improved poems and jingles, which are hard to translate closely. His freer versions are catchy and authentic.

However, his willingness to write like a storyteller, giving us his own versions of the stories, makes his expressed desire to keep himself back, to create a voice as "clear as water" and focus solely on the story rather than a personal interpretation, seem like a contradiction. He writes too well, there is clarity and energy on almost every page, but it is Pullman as clear as a bell.

One thing I found fascinating, though strange: he praises the generality and economy of the Grimms' tales and the lack of specificity and description, yet he adds a great deal of detail (none of his versions is shorter than the original, except where he has deliberately omitted narrative digressions). Perhaps written texts require more detail than oral versions, in which expression and gesture can supply nuance.

This collection is issued as a "classic", so it is probably right to aim for a style free of the gothic extravagance of Angela Carter or the contemporary ethics of Jane Yolen or any other highly literary or individual interpretation, but for those who already know the stories this results in a collection which is very good, but not very interesting. If I were choosing a collection for someone – a child, perhaps – who did not know any of the tales, I would still opt for Jack Zipes's lively translation of the whole oeuvre, The Complete Fairy Tales, partly because my favourites (and yours and everyone's) will be there, and partly because it seems a more straightforward and comfortable enterprise.

• Sara Maitland's Gossip from the Forest is published by Granta next month.